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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23875657">at least we stole the show</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/belparker/pseuds/belparker'>belparker</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Gay Harley Keener, Harley Keener-centric, How Do I Tag, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, first fic, harley sings, kinda iron fam</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:06:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,105</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23875657</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/belparker/pseuds/belparker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harley opens up in a way to his family via a song</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harley Keener &amp; Tony Stark, Harley Keener/Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>at least we stole the show</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is kind of??? my first proper fic because i never fully finish anything</p>
<p>i hope you enjoy but i should warn you, its bad.</p>
<p>song: stole the show by parson james (ft. kygo)</p>
<p>it's currently almost 1am that i edited this after writing it a few days ago so if its bad, tell me??</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“Darlin’, darlin’, oh, turn the lights back on now”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As Harley’s fingers strummed the guitar, everyone watched in awe. When he started singing, the look of shock on everyone’s faces was almost laughable to him. He looked to each person in the room as he sang, giving them a smile filled to the brim with love. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Watchin’, watchin’, as the credits all roll down”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His accent seemed to make the song and his singing even more beautiful, if that were even possible. He looked up to the people in front of him and, one by one, sang to them. First, Tony. The idiot genius who broke into his garage seven years ago and, although left soon after, never truly abandoned him. The man who never gave up on him, not when he was being a problem, not when his mother died and left him and his sister on the doorstep of Stark Tower, basically, and Harley didn’t leave his bed once for almost a week, except to go to the toilet. The man who was a better father to him than William Keener ever will be. The man who loved him as much as he loved Tony.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Cryin’, cryin’, you know we're playin’ to a full house, house”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He looked to Pepper, the woman who loved him just as much as his mother did. The amazing, beautiful person who got him out a bed on day eight of hardly eating and not showering and so much crying. The kind, caring Pepper Potts who read to his sister when she couldn’t sleep because she missed her mom. Pepper Potts, who kissed him on the head affectionately and smoothed down his hair when he was in a rush and almost left home with his hair in a bird nest. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“No heroes, villains, one to blame</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>While wilted roses fill the stage”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He looked at his sister, Abby, next. Since he was seven years old, he’s had to look after his little sister, who was 4 years old when their poor excuse for a father left them. The kind, sassy eleven year old she is now with a heart of gold and who loved writing stories. Who he read to when she couldn’t sleep and their mom was working late or who he told stories to when there was nothing to read. The beautiful, funny girl who didn’t stop hugging him the night they found out about their mother until he pried her off, needing a little space.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“And the thrill, the thrill is gone</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Our debut was a masterpiece”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He looked to MJ and Ned, two friends he had made when he moved to New York to live with Tony and when he moved to Midtown. Who gave him the space he needed when he needed and comfort when he wanted it. Ned, who sat quietly with him building LEGOs when he was having a bad day and didn’t want to talk. MJ, who, at first, seemed cold and sharp but soon turned into a funny and protective friend and gave him comfort in the smaller things, like three taps to his shoulder which meant she was there for him, or sending some random memes on her phone when she noticed he wasn’t feeling great.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“But in the end for you an’ me</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, the show, it can't go on”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To little Morgan, who was listening so quietly it was almost like she wasn’t there. It was hard to get her to sit down for longer than a few seconds but here she was, staring at Harley with a smile and a look of wonder. Sweet little four year old Morgan who loved him the second she met him. Sad little Harley who just lost his mother, who couldn’t get out of bed but that didn’t matter much to Morgan, who just crawled into bed with him and babbled as many words as she knew, which was a lot, considering she was the child of Tony Stark. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“We used to have it all, but now's our curtain call</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>So hold for the applause, oh</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And wave out to the crowd, and take our final bow</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, it's our time to go, but at least we stole the show”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And Peter Parker. Harley’s eyes settled on Peter. Stared for a while, in fact. He smiled fondly and sang almost just to him. Peter, the big hearted boy with so much love to give despite all the pain he has received in his life. The boy with the dumb science pun shirts who talked a mile a minute when talking about the things he was passionate about. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“At least we stole the show”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The boy who saw Harley who was about a month into grieving for the first time and nodded like he knew exactly what Harley was going through with just a glance. Maybe he did. The boy who lost so many people but wasn’t bitter or angry, instead chose to channel his feelings of loss into helping other people.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“At least we stole the show”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Peter Benjamin Parker, who crawls into Harley’s bed after Peter has a nightmare and lets Harley care for him like he does to other people. The boy who lights up every room he walks into like the flick of a switch. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“At least we stole the show”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Peter, who showed Harley the beauties of the world again, who showed him around New York and to his favourite sandwich shop, to the “best pizza place in the entire city”. Who made Harley want to live again and taught him how to smile again without faking it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“At least we stole the show</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>At least we stole the show”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Peter Parker, the boy he loves. The boy who doesn’t know he’s head over goddamn heels for the dumb, brilliant spider. But, the boy who Harley is pretty sure feels even an eighth of what he feels. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Darlin’, darlin’, you know that we are sold out</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This is fadin’, but the band plays on now</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>We're cryin’, cryin’, so let the velvet roll down, down”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harley sang beautifully, putting almost everyone in tears, bar Morgan. Tony tried waving off Pepper’s silent teasing but it fell short as her eyes pooled at the voice of her not really but kind of son. She could never replace Macy Keener, after all. MJ’s eyes teared up ever-so-slightly but she quickly blinked them away and nudged Ned, who had a tear streaking down his cheek and whispered, “nerd.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“No heroes, villains, one to blame</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>While wilted roses fill the stage</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And the thrill, the thrill is gone”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Peter stared at Harley as he closed his eyes, singing a fraction louder. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. It was one of the most beautiful scenes he’d ever seen and heard, including New York at 5am on a Summer morning, the sky’s colours brightening and the traffic getting louder but in that beautiful, home-y city way that he loves. Harley’s singing felt like coming home from a long day and plopping down on the couch, feeling your partner sit down beside your head and placing it in their lap, massaging your head with their fingers. Harley’s singing felt like home. Harley felt like home.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Our debut was a masterpiece</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Our lines we read so perfectly</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But the show, it can't go on”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tony stared at his boy. Harley may not be related by blood but he considers the boy almost like his son, not that he’d ever say that to his face. He may love the kid but, man, does he have a huge ego.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“We used to have it all, but now's our curtain call</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>So hold for the applause, oh</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And wave out to the crowd, and take our final bow</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, it's our time to go, but at least we stole the show”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harley’s family listened to his voice so closely and intensely that it felt like they were slowly picking apart the walls he built one brick at a time. And he continued to sing, letting them see the raw emotion on his face. His walls slowly fell and by the end of his singing, he guessed he’d be stripped bare of his protections and no part of him seemed to care. This was his family, he trusted them and he loved them and he was done hiding how he felt from them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“At least we stole the show</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>At least we stole the show</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>At least we stole the show</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Stole the show</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>At least we stole the show</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Stole the show”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was finished singing before he was done thrumming the guitar but it ceased soon after. He opened his eyes and looked to the people in front of him with a soft smile. He laughed lightly at their tears. The group before him began to clap and Tony even threw in a few “</span>
  <em>
    <span>whoop!”</span>
  </em>
  <span>s which made the room chuckle fondly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What’d ya think?” He asked, the smile stretched farther across his face when the group clapped and cheered for him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That was beautiful, Harls, ‘Bout time you put that voice to good use like that,” his sister remarked. He laughed before grabbing her wrist, barely having to move, and pulling her into a headlock. He messed her hair up then left a sloppy kiss on her forehead. “Gross! I take it back, you’re ugly and so’s your singin’!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t even know you could sing!” Ned said, still in awe at his friend. Most of the rest of the group made sounds of agreement or nodded in agreement and Harley flushed a soft shade of pink. He got compliments from his teachers and his mum, once, when he sang for her birthday a couple years ago, but it still made him all flustered and nervous, in a way.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, uh, I did choir in middle school once and when the music teacher heard me singin’ she made me sign up for the talent show. After that, she insisted I continue singin’ and make a career out of it but I preferred buildin’ stuff. I got back into it at the start of high school and practiced guitar and did covers in my own time, when I wasn’t buildin’ sh-- stuff.” Harley looked to Pepper innocently as she tried (and failed) to glare at him for his almost mess up. Pepper’s no swearing rule was very strict with or without Morgan in the room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“A genius and has a beautiful voice, wow. Holy crap,” Tony breathed out. He was in awe, this was his sort-of-not-really son and he was so </span>
  <em>
    <span>proud. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan jumped up, grabbing onto Harley’s legs in excitement and yelled, “crap!” in an extremely cheerful tone. Harley let out a surprised laugh as well as Tony, who looked quickly at Pepper before shuffling rapidly away from her to avoid being smacked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Morgan, that’s mommy’s word. She claimed it,” Tony tried to help. Pepper glared half heartedly at her husband.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tony..” Pepper warned. Then, she turned to Harley and smiled so bright and genuinely he felt temporarily blinded, “that was amazing, Harley. You have to sing more often.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Agree,” said MJ with a look of pride and genuine awe, which was enough to make Harley almost tear up. Almost. “That was really good. Nerd,” she added as an afterthought.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You made MJ tear up, I saw it!” Ned exclaimed before retreating to the other side of the room, beside Peter, to avoid MJ’s whack. Ned’s movement caused Harley to look at Peter, who was still standing, staring at Harley in awe. Still. That’s how much he loved his singing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Pete?” Harley said nervously, bringing his hand up to rub at the back of his neck. He eyed the boy he fell for, not knowing what his face read. Now, he was nervous.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harley’s words seemed to knock Peter out of his daze and the second he did, he took four large strides and pulled the taller boy down into a soft kiss by his shirt collar. The room seemed to go silent, all Harley could hear was Peter breathing out of his nose. Harley’s arms wrapped around Peter’s waist as Peter brought his hands up from his collar to Harley’s face. They broke off and moved back only so far as to see each other’s faces and the two boys smiled brightly at each other. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They broke out of their daze when Ned let out a loud, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“whoo!”, </span>
  </em>
  <span>MJ muttered, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>finally.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Morgan cheered excitedly. Peter put a little more distance between himself and Harley and looked to their family. Tony looked offended, wondering why it had to happen right in front of him, which made Peter laugh, and Pepper looked happy for the two. Abby looked a mixture of disgusted and happy for her brother.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harley and Peter looked back at each other again and Harley looked at him in a mixture of awe and confusion. “What was that for?” He asked softly, only loud enough for Peter to hear, really. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I was waiting for the right opportunity to do it and, honestly, this was the best one. Plus, in front of Tony? Did you see his face?” Peter said it in the same volume as the other boy as Harley looked at Tony who still looked mildly offended at two of the boys he saw as his children, in a way, and laughed really loudly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tony scoffed and flipped him off without letting either Pepper or Morgan see, confusion now present on his face, “Stop talking about me. I’m going to go order pizza.”</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Later that night, when MJ and Ned had gone home, Tony had gone down to his lab, Pepper and Morgan went to bed and Abby went to her room to facetime her friend, Lila, Peter and Harley were in the latter’s room, chatting about everything and anything, as they often did. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Peter was sitting on Harley’s desk, back against the wall, with Harley sitting on his bed, facing Peter, both of their legs were crossed in their respective seats. Harley made a joke that caused Peter to playfully throw a pillow at him in retaliation and the two chuckled and drifted into a comfortable silence, until Peter broke it a few minutes later.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why’d you choose to sing that song? Is there a reason besides that you liked it?” He asked, his were eyes on Harley’s face. The way it dropped slightly made Peter want to take it back and make him smile again. “Sorry, you don’t have to tell me if it’s really personal.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no, it’s alright.” Harley looked Peter in the eye, clutching the pillow Peter threw at him to his chest. “I’ve always been bullied, you know? First, as the kid whose dad left him and whose mother was hardly around. Then, it was because I wasn’t as into sports as literally everyone else in our shitty little town. As I got older, and slightly more open about my sexuality, I was bullied and called slurs from the guys in my grade or older boys.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harley paused, seeing the anger on Peter’s face. He’s always hated bullies and homophobic bullies really boiled his blood. Harley gave Peter a shrug and a slightly sad smile. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“One particular time, I was on my way back from the garage I worked at. I was on my own and walkin’, since my house was just a few blocks away from the place. I was about halfway home when these 3 guys came out from behind the buildin’ I was about to walk past and they must’ve known me from being the one gay kid in a homophobic little town, because they immediately began calling me slurs and shit. I went home to an empty house, as per usual, with a black eye and sore ribs and a broken nose. A sprained wrist. That was the worst they’d ever hit me. I went to my garage and tried to distract myself. I put on music and tried to work on somethin’ I was buildin’. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stole the show </span>
  </em>
  <span>by Kygo and Parson James came on and, I don’t know, it kind of just hit me. I don’t know why it did, but it did and I found the lyric video that same minute, learned the chords on guitar and learned how to play it. It got me back into singing and it made me feel a little better. Kind of like there was hope? It sounds sorta stupid but it’s the song that got me back into singing and singin’ it to you guys, my family, felt like I was openin’ up without speakin’ ‘cause we all know I can’t open up about my feelings.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Peter stared at Harley the entire time he spoke, emotions all over the place. As he finished speaking, Peter had a soft look on his face, one of love? Peter knew he didn’t love Harley yet, he knew it wasn’t there </span>
  <em>
    <span>yet</span>
  </em>
  <span> but the look on his face told Harley that Peter knew he would one day. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You just did,” Peter said, smiling softly at the boy across from him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You said you can’t really open up about your feelings, but you just did.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh,” Harley blinked. He didn’t even notice he just spilled all of that to Peter. It all just came pouring out as he spoke, without effort. “Maybe you’re just really easy to talk to,” Harley said.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Peter smiled wider before it dropped into a more serious look, “it sucks that that happened to you, Harls. We should go back to your hometown one day, you and me, and you can point out who did it so I can beat their asses,” he said to make Harley laugh (succeeding). “Your voice is so beautiful, you sure you’re not a siren? Maybe that’s why I kissed you,” he added in a teasing tone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harley chuckled again, “if I was a siren, I would have sung for you earlier.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, re-” Peter started before he was interrupted by FRIDAY.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mini Bosses, I apologize for interrupting but Boss has told me to tell you to ‘shut the hell up and go to sleep, I can hear you from here.’” She stated in a completely monotone voice. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, FRI, tell him,” Peter started before he and Harley said at the same time, “‘shut up, old man!’” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The two looked at each other and burst into laughter. Peter jumped directly from the desk to Harley’s bed and buried himself within the pile of blankets, facing Harley and smiling softly.</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“At least we stole the show.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>feedback and comments??  im an attention whore :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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